


It's a good color on you.

by RosieMaeWrites



Series: The Curse of the 7th Wheel [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Angst for days, Gen, Insecure Lance, Insecure Thoughts, Lance needs some help, Langst, Lotor is an evil son of a bitch, Magic, Non-Graphic Violence, Torture, angst and lance are my favorite, i tell u whuat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-07
Updated: 2017-03-07
Packaged: 2018-09-30 07:02:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10156886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RosieMaeWrites/pseuds/RosieMaeWrites
Summary: Lance is trying to be there, he's trying to be heard, but no one seems to hear him. (drabble/train of thought. not edited)





	

**Author's Note:**

> I'm projecting!!! Ah!!! This is something I needed to get out of my system, sorry it's so messy.

So maybe he wasn't handling space very well, Lance thought to himself as he limped to a healing pod. Not many people noticed the way he walked carefully and held his side during the debriefing, even though the act of breathing became difficult towards the end there. Still, he chirped and chattered like the faithful little songbird he was, even if he wasn't the canary in their coal mine.

Lance worked very hard to keep up his appearance, everyone had heard the griping and whining about 'lack of beauty sleep' and 'not enough time to moisturize'. He would like to say that his beauty sleep actually involved sleeping instead of staying up half the night with his headphones and eye mask on trying to block out the world and make himself think he was wearing the headphones to keep out the sounds of the busy Havana streets his family's apartment resided above. But most nights it couldn't block out the chill of artificial air and the constant humming that felt alien no matter how many months he'd been around it.

One of the worst things now a days were his fellow paladins. At this point he didn't feel comfortable calling any of them anything more than acquaintances. Even Hunk, his best friend at the Garrison for the longest time, stopped putting up with his jokes and stupidity to hang out with Pidge. They would sit in the hangars or in the kitchen and discuss things that Lance understood, but he didn't know enough about to actually talk about. Those first few times he did try to relate he just got a concerned look from the two geniuses before they resumed their conversation.

Coran tried to make him feel better when he could, but Lance didn't bother him at all anymore, not that the centuries old Altean noticed the slow absence of the Blue Paladin from his life. He still smiled and laughed and that made almost everyone laugh in ways he couldn't. Even his spot as the team goof ball was better in someone else's hands.

It took him a bit to right himself after that blow to his practically non-existent pride when he realized that Keith and Allura had moved on from putting up with his bullshit together to just hanging out without him, leaving him to wander a lot, to discover rooms and hallways that made him feel like a pioneer, but he didn't tell the other's about it, afraid he would bore people. Keith didn't follow his antagonizing comments any more, didn't bite at the bait Lance was throwing out by the armful in a desperate attempt to connect with someone he used to be able to vent on. Now, all of his brooding about feeling less than Keith just built up like fallen, rotted leaves that got caught on rocks before going over the waterfall.

But it was Shiro, Takashi Shirogane, his hero, that made him feel the most useless. Every time Lance opened his mouth to say something about the plan, he'd shut it again, even though he could see the problem. He was afraid that one wrong move and Shiro would hate him, because the older man already seemed to dislike Lance, to take the other person's side in whatever arguments he was involved in. In training, he wasn't fast or quick witted or just built to take a beat down. He lost most of his fights as Shiro goaded him to ' _Be better, Lance. I'm not going to baby you_ '. He sounded like Iverson when he would say things like that. After all, wasn't Lance the back up? Only there because there was a vacancy?

Lance knew he wasn't talented, he knew he wasn't what his fellow paladins, or his heroes wanted him to be. He was just Lance, just a failure from Cuba who could barely speak English when he got to the Garrison and worked so hard to get rid of his accent and his mispronunciations, but the more weighed down he got, the more he messed up, the more he stuttered and faltered and said the wrong thing.

Eventually, after the day everyone laughed when he forgot the word spoon in English, he gave up, saved his talking for status reports and answering direct questions. That got Hunk's attention at least, enough to make him pull him aside after a training drill that resulted in him almost getting stabbed with a bot and looking as hollow as a porcelain doll as he got yelled at in front of everyone because it was the third time he had almost been hurt that day. 

“You feelin' okay, man? You looked a little out of it...” Concerned knit Hunk's eyebrows together and Lance wanted to throw up because his genius, better friend shouldn't be worried about him lagging behind. Lance had lagged behind all of his life, so why stop now, right? 

“Si- I mean, uh, yeah, yeah I'm fine, just tired.” He had a right to be too, with the battles picking up and everyone's attention on Keith want it's suddenly revealed that one of them is a Galra. It was throwing a rock in a puddle and shook everything up, and just as it always had, Lance became forgotten. 

It was okay, he was used to it. He didn't matter now, quiet and broken boys didn't get played with because they were just that, broken. Lance didn't have the energy to be angry, even after Shiro picked Keith was the stealth mission, just kept picking Keith for the jobs that mattered and left him in the dust. He was there for a reason though, his brain would supply when he asked himself why. 'Because the only reason your here is that Keith had disciplinary issues. Lance was only here in case Keith were to fail, and Keith never fails. 

Bigger cracks turn into canyons when Shiro disappeared, and they don't move any closer when he returns, being showered with love and care as Lance healed in a pod, missed the whole celebration because he jumped in front of an arrow for Keith, because Keith was more important, and if they lost Keith they would be stuck with him and no one wanted that. No one  _wanted_ Lance. 

His mood is affecting Voltron, the leg is lagging, he needs to be better. Shiro sits him down one day to talk about it. He makes Lance feel like he belongs for a minute or two as Shiro's says he's always there to talk. Lance knows the truth though. He's never  _not_ shut down, never listened to even when he has something meaningful to say.

 

* * *

Even if Lance screams, no one hears him from his place in Lotor's private quarters. He's been waiting for someone to rescue him for so long. Even the Galran prince is starting to notice the distinct lack of other Paladins as he keeps one to himself.

“Where are your comrades, Paladin? Did they find someone better?” Lotor grinned that the empty shell Lance used to occupy before he was broken by Haggar. What a loyal druid, to gift the Prince such an interesting little play thing to pick apart and devour. Now he had a toy to talk to him about Earth and about his insecurities and fears as Lotor berated him for all of it. 

“What a weak little bitch. I should've obviously picked the Red Paladin. At least he _belongs_ here, unlike you.” The Prince would sneer, turning away as Lance bawled on the floor like the weakling was.

 

* * *

When they found him, Hunk actually threw up. It took months to work out the plan, which gave the Galra enough time to thoroughly break him. It. What was he now except something to be beaten and broken and  _used_ by those who saw fit to, like his friends.

Lance actually flinched when Shiro picked him up, looking prepared as his blood began to cover the both of them and he whimpered at the pain in his ribs and spine. It was like his bones were replaced with hot metal rods and he knew it was the druids at he writhed in agony. He had figured out their trick this time, the spell that had been placed over him. When he felt mental, or emotional pain it would transfer to physical pain so Lotor could watch him scream and cry and beg as he rolled and groveled for mercy. 

The last thing Lotor ever said to him was, “You know, Paladin, I think melancholy blue is the most wonderful color on you.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry!! It's not much and it doesn't make a lot of sense, but comment so I can improve for you.


End file.
